


So This is What It Feels Like to Die

by Larryislife



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Angst, Break Up, Depression, Excessive Drinking, Gen, Graphic Description, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicide, Triggers, larry - Freeform, larry stylinson - Freeform, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-26 03:53:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2637014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larryislife/pseuds/Larryislife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's gone. Louis is gone. The emptiness is crippling. Consuming me more by the second. Without him, I have nothing. I am nothing. He's gone. And I'm alone. </p>
<p>*WARNING: CONTAINS TRIGGERS.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	So This is What It Feels Like to Die

**Author's Note:**

> You may want to make sure you have tissues on hand... I know I needed them while writing this!

     Empty. That's how I feel without him. It's the kind of emptiness that hurts. It makes my body ache all over and threatens to consume me. I haven't moved. I won't eat. Nothing matters. He's gone.          

     No. No. No. No. This is not happening. This is just a nightmare, Louis is just off visiting his mum. Or maybe he's out getting tea. Or at the shops. Or with the other lads... Yeah. Somewhere. But he's here. He's mine still. He didn't leave. He didn't break his promises. He couldn't have...

     But he did. He went back on everything we had promised each other. Our beautiful future, down the drain. Everything. Fuck me. Fuck him. Fuck life. Fuck everything. I'm alone.

     A small voice in the back of my mind whispers, 'but you aren't alone, you have Liam and Zayn and Niall and mum and Gemma and Robin and everyone else.' No. None of them matter now, they all have lives beyond me. They have others they care about and need. Louis is my life. He is my everything. And I was his. Emphasis on was. Not anymore. Now he's gone. And I'm alone.

     In a sluggish haze, I climb out of bed and walk slowly to the kitchen, where I begin to search frantically through the cupboards. Ah, there they are. I grab the bottles of alcohol. Just what I need. I choose one at random, sitting on the floor with my back against the wall. I uncap it with a struggle and then begin gulping it down until I choke. Coughing and sputtering, I take a break and check the bottle. Half gone already. As the coughing subsides, I chug the rest. One bottle down.

     The pain is still excruciating. I greedily clutch a second bottle in my hands, uncapping it hurriedly. I begin taking large gulps. Soon enough, that bottle is done too.

     More, more, more. Maybe if I drink enough, the pain will go away. One more drink turns to one more bottle. Repeat. Still no relief. Still unbearable pain. Then I'm suddenly out.

     I begin sobbing, everything catching up to me. Louis is gone. I just drank five bottles of vodka. He left me.

     I wasn't good enough for him, I knew it. He always said I was. But I knew I wasn't. Who could actually love me. I'm worthless. I'm fat, ugly, untalented. Trash. I don't deserve to be in the band. Everyone knows that.

     I stand up shakily before stumbling into the bathroom. I shut the door and lock it, then turn around and stare at the mirror, gripping the sink firmly for stability. My eyes are red, puffy, bloodshot. Tears still leak down my tired face, mixing with the streaks of previous tear stains that coat my cheeks. I reek of alcohol. No wonder Louis left. I'm ugly as sin.

     I punch the mirror in a sudden bout of anger, then fall to the floor, sobbing harder and clutching my bleeding fist to my chest with my uninjured hand. The pain in my hand distracts from the heartbreak, and for a moment at least I feel something other than the crippling emptiness. The sight of my blood spilling out and staining my clothes and the floor excites me. But the feelings are over far too soon. More. I need more. I look around and spot a jagged piece of glass from the mirror on the floor in front of me. Perfect. I grab it quickly and stare at it for a minute, before pressing it down on my wrist and dragging it across. The emptiness is momentarily replaced with sheer, unmasked pain. Yes. Perfect.

     I watch my blood run crimson out of the fresh cut, quickly covering my surrounding tattoos. Fuck, the tattoos. Louis. The pain fades out of focus instantly as he creeps back into my mind. No, no, no, I want the pain back. Please. It hurts less. I can't look away from the tattoos that decorate my thin arms. I remember the stories behind them all. Louis was either with me when I got them or they involved him. Both for some of them. No, Harry, don't think about him. Just focus on the pain. I begin tracing the thick, black lines of the tattoos with the sharp edge of the glass.

     They disappear one by one as my blood leaks out and covers them, soaking my clothes further and dripping onto the tile floor. I embrace the pain again.

     I run out of tattoos on my left arm and tear off my blood soaked shirt, moving to the ones on my chest and stomach in fear of the terrifying emptiness returning. My hand is shaking and I feel lightheaded from the blood loss.

     I continue tracing the pictures and words on my skin with the glass. I couldn't stop even if I wanted to. The pain is a drug. It's addicting, comforting, welcoming. It's helping me forget.

     Eventually I'm out of tattoos that I can reach. What now. I already feel the hollowness creeping back to me. I'm out of alcohol. If I cut any more, I'll surely die...

     Death. Maybe... 'No, Harry, Louis wouldn't want you to do it.' But he left me. He doesn't love me. I'm not good enough for him. 'Think about your mum, your mates, the fans, the band, Gemma...'Everyone will be happier without me. They don't need me. I'm a waste of space. I shouldn't even have been born in the first place. The world would be better. The band will be better without me...

     After quite a few tries, I manage to stand up. My knees wobble and I see spots cloud my vision as I grab the sink for support. Slowly my sight clears and I begin searching through the cabinet. I grab every bottle of every type of pills I have before collapsing in a heap on the floor. I clumsily open the first one and begin swallowing them dry, one at a time. It takes a while, but it's a distraction from the loneliness that is gnawing at my insides. I do the same with the second bottle. And the third, before I can no longer continue.

     By this point, I'm so dizzy that I can barely hold my head up. The bleeding has slowed to a trickle but I lost a lot of blood. It's all over me and is pooling on the floor. The room smells of rust, salt, and alcohol.

     My body feels like it is moving in slow motion as I drag myself over to the tub and pull myself in, turning the faucet on as hot as it will go. I hiss as the scalding water hits my cuts. My body stings all over. I sit with my back against the side of the tub as it begins to fill.

     I glance over at the mess I made of the small room. Blood, everywhere, mixing in with broken glass. Various items from the cupboards are strewn about from my frantic searching. I see my phone lying on the ground near the tub. I reach for it. Louis. I need to hear his voice one last time.

     My hands shake as I dial the familiar number. The phone rings a few times before he picks up and I hear his beautiful voice fill my ear.

     "Hello," he says hesitantly.

     "Louis," I slur, sounding every bit as drunk and weak as I currently am. "I love...you...I want to...say goodbye...I hope you...end up..happi...er than...I could have m...ade you..."

     "Harry...are you ok, what are you talking about...it's not goodbye, we still are in the band, we will see each other all the time...just as band mates and friends...nothing more..." he says quietly.

     "No...we won't..." I chuckle sadly. "I'm...leaving, Louis...you won't...have to see...me ever...ag...ain, I'm le...aving for you...I'm sorry I...stuck around...as long as I did...you deserve...better...the band...does too, I'm not...good enough...goodbye, I...I love you...I love...you..." my voice is growing steadily quieter.

     "Harry, please tell me you aren't doing what it sounds like..." he asks worriedly.

     I don't reply.

     "Harry, please, no..." he says. It almost sounds like he's going to cry. He's a good actor. I wonder who he's around so that he has to act upset.

     "Harry, babe, I'm at Liam's flat right now, I'll be over in a second. Please hold on. Please," he begs. Figures, he's with Liam, that's why he is acting like he cares.

     "No...let me...go...Louis you don't...love me..."

     "I do, babe, I love you so much," he insists. It sounds like there's whistling in the phone. Is he running? Liam only lives in a flat in the building two over, I hope he isn't coming here...

     "Then...why did you...le...ave me..." I manage to choke out.

     "It was stupid, love, I shouldn't have, I just think you should have someone who is better than me..."

     "Not...possible...Lou..."

     "Baby, please open your door," he asks hopefully.

     "Can't...move...please don't...come in..." I beg weakly. I can hear banging outside. No...

     "Harry, I found the key, two seconds babe..."

     "No..." I start, but I can't make my arm hold my phone up anymore, and it falls with a thud into the murky, red water that now fills the tub and is beginning to spill over.

     I struggle to keep my eyes open. The thudding is coming steadily closer by the second and I can hear worried voices calling my name. Liam, Zayn, Niall, and Louis's voices, to be exact. No...they can't see me like this.

     "Bloody hell, five empty bottles," Zayn cried. I guess he's in the kitchen.

     "Anyone find him yet?" Louis yells. Is he crying? The others all say no. Good, maybe they'll leave now...

     "THE BATHROOM!" one of them exclaims, but I can't make out who. I hear the thudding come closer, closer, until they are at the door. They try to open it, but can't. I locked it.

     I can hear them all curse as I begin to slip further into the water. Only my eyes, nose, and part of my hair are above the water now.

     I had long since stopped fighting my heavy eyes and allowed them to shut, but I struggle to try to open them when I feel the room shake.

     Even through the water, I can hear them all gasp and sob loudly, some even screaming.

     I feel hands on my arms, pulling me up and out of the water. I faintly hear someone shut off the faucet. Someone yells for an ambulance. Someone else calls it. They're all sobbing heavily. There are hands on me, pulling me out of the tub fully. I'm placed in someone's lap. Familiar hands frantically stroke my face. Louis.

     I can't move my body, but I still struggle to open my eyes one last time. I need to see him. I feel wet drips fall on my face. Tears?

     "Harry, no, no, don't leave me, you can't leave me, I love you so much, please hold on, please," he screams.

     I force my eyes open one last time and he gasps.

     "H...Harry?! Baby please don't leave me, I love you, please, I love you so much, I need you, please, I'll do anything, just please, hold on," he begs.

     I take one last good look at his beautiful, tear streaked face.

    "L...ou...is...I...l...ove...you..." I breath out.

     "I love you too babe, so so much, please don't leave me, please..." he sobs.

     I open my mouth slightly to reply, but I can't make any words come out. My eyes begin to shut, and I'm too weak to fight them. My breaths are becoming steadily shallower and more labored.

     "Harry, no! Stay with me baby please! The ambulance is on its way, just hold on, five more minutes!" Louis screams with anguish evident in his voice. I'm trying, Lou, I am...but I'm too weak...

     My breathing stops and I feel my body go completely limp.

     "HARRY NO! HARRY!" Louis yells.

     And then, nothing.

     So this is what it feels like to die...


End file.
